Ep VII: The Length of One's Rope
by Rodan427
Summary: Earth is safe after the Zord battle over the weekend. However both teams are depleted a teammate. As Rita prepares a scheme for revenge, Tommy struggles to keep his Power Ranger and professional lives separate. Faced with nostalgia, he must come to terms with what he feels and thinks. Meanwhile, Rocky continues down the path he has chosen as Adam deals with his own demons.
1. Weary

Monday dawned. Minute by minute, the sun stretched its light further across the earth's rotating surface, brightening the sky. Grasses pricked up, waking from their slumber. Sneaking around a pair of bamboo window shades, the sunlight permeated a single bedroom.

Inside Dr. Tommy Oliver lay buried in his sheets, silent in his slumber. His face remained smooth save for the stubble that had grown. The sun's light brightened about him. Suddenly his eyelids twitched, his eyeballs scurrying underneath them.

Minute white noise, almost inaudible and yet resonate, echoed and reverberated throughout his dreams. Devoid of syllables but populated with vowels as consonants chimed and whispered in and out, the noise taunted Tommy Oliver.

Then they slowed. His breathing loosening, he sank back into slumber.

The hour slid onward.

BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!

Tommy slammed his right hand on the wide snooze button upon his alarm clock. Bouncing briefly, his hand slid off the bedside table, dragging the vile contraption with it. It crashed, bouncing on its smooth—now jagged—edges. Eyes still shut Tommy grimaced. _Great!_ he cursed. He turned over, bearing his face into his pillow.

Time stretched on. Despite his desire, sleep remained distant.

_Reefside… classes,_ he thought, struggling to link together trains of thought in the vast expanse of his mind. _I can't… let them down. Students._

Grunting, he planted his palms into the mattress. Pushing his upper body up, he swayed, his arms sliding outward. Replanting them, he steadied himself. Sighing he covered his eyes. Fatigue still dazed his mind.

_I slept long enough,_ he remarked. _I should be fine._

He gazed at the bedroom door, remembering what lay beyond it… and within his soul. A faint shiver squirmed through his arms and down his thighs. He washed it away; but several new ones rippled up his forehead as memories, tainted and gloomy, bloomed anew within him. Yesterday's battles clanged in his mind: his threats chorusing with the explosions he, Goldar, and Scorpina had caused to the Shogunzords, lightning bolts shoving Sean to his knees and side.

Rubbing his temples, he clapped his eyes shut again, squeezing them. Wincing out a groan, he cowered. Cradling, he rocked back and forth. _Sean's assault wasn't my fault,_ he pleaded, gritting his teeth, _just as it wasn't mine when Rita turned me evil. Evil power ranger,_ he mused.

"_There's no such thing,"_ Sean's voice reminded him from memory.

_But Jason is a Ninjetti,_ argued Tommy. _And so is Rocky—who still has his powers. Is there a way to bare him from them?_

His thoughts descended into silence. Seventeen minutes stretched onward. The tips of his fingers tingled in semi-numbness. A dull blue stained their pigments.

"Zordon," he prayed under his breath. "Did you foresee any of this?" He buried his face into his hands.

Sighing he pushed beyond his mood and out of his bed. Reaching underneath his pillow, he retrieved his morpher. White light flashed from his peripherally. He glanced down, holding his morpher at waist height.

A miniscule comet of white energy circled around the coin's circumference once. The falcon insignia's eye twinkled briefly as if alight with candlelight.

Tommy twitched his head from side to the side. He blinked, gaping at the still coin. The sun's light reflected off it now. His morpher did nothing else strange.

"Huh," Tommy uttered. "Odd." He continued staring. "I gotta get ready." _Still,_ he mused, sliding out of bed. _I wonder if Sean or Billy has seen this before._

Trudging across the barren, lunar landscape, Goldar uttered a growl. Kicking a mound of dirt, he stamped to a stop. Glancing down, he lifted the ceramic urn in his left hand to heart height. "Scorpina," he sighed, lowering his knotted shoulders and relaxing his wings.

Kneeling, Goldar carved out a ditch with his right hand. "Sean… you did this to her!" he said, teetering between a growling and grumbling.

With the ditch deep enough, he uncovered the urn. Lifting it to the stars, he gazed at it and then the universe beyond, keening through a hiss. Blinking his red eyes, he poured Scorpina's remains into the ditch. Growling and crooning, he swept the lighter lunar dirt over the ashes.

Ruby, flickering light danced beyond the grave. A woman cackled at him. Lifting his head, Goldar sneered at the newcomer. "Get out of here, you bat!"

Rita scowled at him. "You forget dog-breath that Scorpina was my friend, too."

"Yesss." Goldar jabbed a finger toward her. "But you never married her!"

"As if! I'm already divorced and couldn't be prouder."

"Right," Goldar growled, his voice wet with sarcasm.

"Oh, shut up or I won't say why I've come."

Goldar closed his fingers around the hilt of his sword, poised to pull it from his belt. "Let's say you never did."

"Careful." She held up a finger. "I may surprise you."

Skepticism steamed about Goldar's brain as he fought off his craving to stab Rita Repulsa. _Jason would not forgive me if I struck her,_ he thought, knowing that their group could not handle another lost. Still, he hated Rita. Ever since Goldar had mutinied against Rita by swearing his sole allegiance to Lord Zedd upon the 'True Emperor's' return, Rita and Goldar had rarely seen eye to eye. Scorpina had been one of those rarities. It was clear—or at least appeared to be clear—that Rita was here for Scorpina and not for Goldar. Regardless he curled his lip. Sneering again, he stood. "What do you want, witch?"

Rita smiled. "Ah. I just may have the scheme for Scorpina to be avenged." Lifting her staff, she pointed its top at the burial spot. "Hah!" she shouted, shooting a red-orange beam at it from her large, ruby colored jewel.

"What are you doing!?" he demanded. He stepped toward her, ready to pounce.

Rita abated, a grin shining upon her face. "Don't worry; I didn't desecrate her."

Goldar tilted his face, squeezing his sword hit. "What do you mean?"

"Ha-ha! You'll find out. Have you ever heard the story of Orion and Scorpio?" She split into numerous flying flames dissolving into the lunar atmosphere.

"Rita!" Goldar called out, pacing and shaking his now drawn sword to the stars. "Lord Zedd's not gonna like this."

"Can it, you stupid monkey!" the witch shouted from afar. "I have Lord Zedd's approval. Just wait three days and you'll see Scorpina avenged."

Turning, his shoulders hunched and wings flared, Goldar sneered in the direction of the Lord Zedd's palace. "Curse you, Rita Repulsa!" Monday dawned. Minute by minute, the sun stretched its light further across the earth's rotating surface, brightening the sky. Grasses pricked up, waking from their slumber. Sneaking around a pair of bamboo window shades, the sunlight permeated a single bedroom.

Inside Dr. Tommy Oliver lay buried in his sheets, silent in his slumber. His face remained smooth save for the stubble that had grown. The sun's light brightened about him. Suddenly his eyelids twitched, his eyeballs scurrying underneath them.

Minute white noise, almost inaudible and yet resonate, echoed and reverberated throughout his dreams. Devoid of syllables but populated with vowels as consonants chimed and whispered in and out, the noise taunted Tommy Oliver.

Then they slowed. His breathing loosening, he sank back into slumber.

The hour slid onward.

BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!

Tommy slammed his right hand on the wide snooze button upon his alarm clock. Bouncing briefly, his hand slid off the bedside table, dragging the vile contraption with it. It crashed, bouncing on its smooth—now jagged—edges. Eyes still shut Tommy grimaced. _Great!_ he cursed. He turned over, bearing his face into his pillow.

Time stretched on. Despite his desire, sleep remained distant.

_Reefside… classes,_ he thought, struggling to link together trains of thought in the vast expanse of his mind. _I can't… let them down. Students._

Grunting, he planted his palms into the mattress. Pushing his upper body up, he swayed, his arms sliding outward. Replanting them, he steadied himself. Sighing he covered his eyes. Fatigue still dazed his mind.

_I slept long enough,_ he remarked. _I should be fine._

He gazed at the bedroom door, remembering what lay beyond it… and within his soul. A faint shiver squirmed through his arms and down his thighs. He washed it away; but several new ones rippled up his forehead as memories, tainted and gloomy, bloomed anew within him. Yesterday's battles clanged in his mind: his threats chorusing with the explosions he, Goldar, and Scorpina had caused to the Shogunzords, lightning bolts shoving Sean to his knees and side.

Rubbing his temples, he clapped his eyes shut again, squeezing them. Wincing out a groan, he cowered. Cradling, he rocked back and forth. _Sean's assault wasn't my fault,_ he pleaded, gritting his teeth, _just as it wasn't mine when Rita turned me evil. Evil power ranger,_ he mused.

"_There's no such thing,"_ Sean's voice reminded him from memory.

_But Jason is a Ninjetti,_ argued Tommy. _And so is Rocky—who still has his powers. Is there a way to bare him from them?_

His thoughts descended into silence. Seventeen minutes stretched onward. The tips of his fingers tingled in semi-numbness. A dull blue stained their pigments.

"Zordon," he prayed under his breath. "Did you foresee any of this?" He buried his face into his hands.

Sighing he pushed beyond his mood and out of his bed. Reaching underneath his pillow, he retrieved his morpher. White light flashed from his peripherally. He glanced down, holding his morpher at waist height.

A miniscule comet of white energy circled around the coin's circumference once. The falcon insignia's eye twinkled briefly as if alight with candlelight.

Tommy twitched his head from side to the side. He blinked, gaping at the still coin. The sun's light reflected off it now. His morpher did nothing else strange.

"Huh," Tommy uttered. "Odd." He continued staring. "I gotta get ready." _Still,_ he mused, sliding out of bed. _I wonder if Sean or Billy has seen this before._

* * *

Trudging across the barren, lunar landscape, Goldar uttered a growl. Kicking a mound of dirt, he stamped to a stop. Glancing down, he lifted the ceramic urn in his left hand to heart height. "Scorpina," he sighed, lowering his knotted shoulders and relaxing his wings.

Kneeling, Goldar carved out a ditch with his right hand. "Sean… you did this to her!" he said, teetering between a growling and grumbling.

With the ditch deep enough, he uncovered the urn. Lifting it to the stars, he gazed at it and then the universe beyond, keening through a hiss. Blinking his red eyes, he poured Scorpina's remains into the ditch. Growling and crooning, he swept the lighter lunar dirt over the ashes.

Ruby, flickering light danced beyond the grave. A woman cackled at him. Lifting his head, Goldar sneered at the newcomer. "Get out of here, you bat!"

Rita scowled at him. "You forget dog-breath that Scorpina was my friend, too."

"Yesss." Goldar jabbed a finger toward her. "But you never married her!"

"As if! I'm already divorced and couldn't be prouder."

"Right," Goldar growled, his voice wet with sarcasm.

"Oh, shut up or I won't say why I've come."

Goldar closed his fingers around the hilt of his sword, poised to pull it from his belt. "Let's say you never did."

"Careful." She held up a finger. "I may surprise you."

Skepticism steamed about Goldar's brain as he fought off his craving to stab Rita Repulsa. _Jason would not forgive me if I struck her,_ he thought, knowing that their group could not handle another lost. Still, he hated Rita. Ever since Goldar had mutinied against Rita by swearing his sole allegiance to Lord Zedd upon the 'True Emperor's' return, Rita and Goldar had rarely seen eye to eye. Scorpina had been one of those rarities. It was clear—or at least appeared to be clear—that Rita was here for Scorpina and not for Goldar. Regardless he curled his lip. Sneering again, he stood. "What do you want, witch?"

Rita smiled. "Ah. I just may have the scheme for Scorpina to be avenged." Lifting her staff, she pointed its top at the burial spot. "Hah!" she shouted, shooting a red-orange beam at it from her large, ruby colored jewel.

"What are you doing!?" he demanded. He stepped toward her, ready to pounce.

Rita abated, a grin shining upon her face. "Don't worry; I didn't desecrate her."

Goldar tilted his face, squeezing his sword hit. "What do you mean?"

"Ha-ha! You'll find out. Have you ever heard the story of Orion and Scorpio?" She split into numerous flying flames dissolving into the lunar atmosphere.

"Rita!" Goldar called out, pacing and shaking his now drawn sword to the stars. "Lord Zedd's not gonna like this."

"Can it, you stupid monkey!" the witch shouted from afar. "I have Lord Zedd's approval. Just wait three days and you'll see Scorpina avenged."

Turning, his shoulders hunched and wings flared, Goldar sneered in the direction of the Lord Zedd's palace. "Curse you, Rita Repulsa!"


	2. Getting through the Day

Dressed in his ruby tie, olive dress shirt, and dark slacks and with his skin a semi-pale, Dr. Tommy Oliver strolled through the front entrance of Reefside High School's main building, navigating through the hive of teenage students.

"Dr. Oliver, one moment," called out Meghan, the receptionist. "Good morning." Flashing a smile, she handed him a couple of sealed white business envelopes. "These memos were just dropped off for you."

"Ah, thank you," Tommy said, grasping the envelopes and opening them. Taking out the documents, he skimmed through them.

"Running a bit late?" she added, dipping her head in silent amusement.

"Just navigating the never ending turmoil of life," Tommy answered. He flicked a finger at his hair. "Even my hair gel didn't want to cooperate today." While the hairs along the sides of his head stabbed outward like porcupine quills, his bangs fell forward in a style Trent Mercer, the former DinoThunder White Ranger, could pulled off but not Tommy.

Meghan chuckled. "Well, I think it looks smashing, Dr. Oliver."

A twinge of a grin tugged a corner of Tommy's mouth. Lifting his head, he flicked the envelopes toward Meghan, the papers rattling against each other. "Thanks for these."

"No problem. Excuse me," she added, pointing at a student. "That is not appropriate dress wear."

Ignoring the infraction, Tommy strolled away, heading for his classroom. _One hour at a time,_ he chanted, avoiding the looks of those about him. _At least it's not a test day,_ he reminded himself. _All these lectures should keep me distracted. _He frowned. _At least until I talk about the Tyrannosaurs Rex. Jason's first zord._

_Bad idea!_ he interrupted, but too late.

Each of Jason's zords flashed through his head: Tyrannosaurs Dinozord, Red Dragon Thunderzord (modeled after a Chinese dragon), the Warrior Wheel, and Pyramidas, the colossal pyramid-shaped zord/space ship of the Gold Ranger, used to create the Zeo Ultrazord. Riding on a roaring gale, images from several past battles, both zord and ground based from Mighty Morphin' through Turbo, swept through his mind. Wincing, Tommy halted only a few doors from his classroom, staggering and slumping into the wall on his right. Squeezing his eyes, he rubbed his right temple.

_Quiet,_ he begged, tensing his cheeks. _Be quiet! Not NOW!_ he shouted firmly. The images shut down. Opening his eyes, he straightened up. Glaring down the hall, he stormed toward his classroom, his frustration ebbing. Sweeping into the room, his frustration now evaporated, he sauntered to his desk. "Good morning, class," he greeted over the murmurs and various discussions of his homeroom as he set his briefcase atop his desk.

Taking the cue, everyone filed into his or her seats.

"How was everyone's weekend?" Dr. Oliver asked, glancing about the room, his body smooth with good humor; his angst now a dwindled memory. No one answered. Dr. Oliver held out his arms, shrugging slightly, but still keeping his casual but firm authority. "Come on. I know you have some stuff to talk about." Teenagers always did.

One student raised his hand. Tommy pointed to him. "Go ahead, Tyler."

"Dr. O, what was the deal with that monster attack near City Hall?"

"Yeah, we haven't had one in months," chimed in Tina, another student. Five others whispered amongst themselves, some grumbling.

"Settle down, please," Tommy instructed, ignoring the jerk in his throat. "Before I answer that, was anyone near that particular attack?" he added, sweeping his gaze over the thirty-two students.

Many shook their heads while many either answered or mumbled "no". Three said nothing but glanced at their classmates.

"How 'bout anyone you know? Relatives? Friends?"

His students shook his and her heads.

Despite his blooming relief, Tommy kept his voice even and professional, trying to ignore the knot twisting in his stomach. "Good. I'm glad you were safe. From what I saw, that was an intense battle. To answer your question, Tyler, we can't always know when an attack like that is going to happen."

"But there was a giant Power Ranger!" Tyler exclaimed, his eyes almost popping with excitement. "Who could predict that?!"

_Hard to predict something that's only happened three times before,_ Tommy thought to himself. _Thankfully, nowhere near here._ Glad that he would not divulge this to his students, Tommy inclined his head. "That's right."

"Plus those recent attacks in Angel Grove," Tina added.

Tommy sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Many of these things can't be explained," he confessed. "Science can only tell us so much. What's important now is to continue forward but being careful. These aren't just isolated incidents specific to one region—as you've pointed out. We'll just have to take these like a natural disaster." He sat in his chair. "You can't predict when some of them will occur but you know they're there and that they'll happen. Same thing goes for life. We can prepare ourselves as much as we want but sometimes it isn't enough." His gaze faltered to the floor, distraction swaying his focus. Catching himself, he shifted back to his students immediately, hoping no one noticed the slacking in his face. "Still, unless I'm mistaken, the sun's outside today and I haven't seen an enormous monster trampling through Reefside. Right?"

Some students chuckled. Most of them nodded. A few murmured, "Yeah."

Tommy flashed a smile, its warmth rippling through his face. Knots remained in his shoulders though but he continued. "Good. Then I'm not crazy. Of course if I was then you'd be in a lot of trouble, right?"

Snorts of laughter popped out from the chuckles and giggles sounding from his students.

Chuckles rumbled within Tommy's chest. "Now speaking of giants, can anyone think of any prehistoric animals that were just as tall?"

Addison raised her hand. Tommy pointed to the student. "Sauropods?" she asked.

"Okay. Can you tell me specifically?"

A steady _uh_ slid from her mouth.

Tommy stared at her for a handful of seconds, curious if she knew the answer. Most of the class did also, twisting in their chairs. It being only the third week, Tommy had not lectured on the Mesozoic Era but he thought this would be a good way to gauge their knowledge without a pop quiz.

Leaping to his feet, Tommy swept his gaze about the class in general. "While she's thinking about that, let me reiterate to you all that the counselors' offices and all of the teachers are available should you feel the need to talk. I see that a lot of you are concerned. Don't hesitate just because you think your friends will think you're weak. You're not for coming forward. Let me also stress that this is not a time to harass your fellow students. This is a scary time we're facing especially since these attacks aren't isolated to one city like last year."

Tyler raised his hand. Others fidgeted, showing without realizing they were that statements were forming on their tongues but they refused to voice them. It should be easy for them given last year, Tommy mentally remarked but he understood why. Being a veteran Ranger and despite his sarcasm, Tommy knew that this year was different for everyone involved—even the civilians.

Tommy pointed at Tyler. "Yes?"

"Do you think these attacks are gonna spread?" Tyler asked.

Tommy gave a quick shrug, pushing his anxiety further away. "Probably," he admitted. "Based on what's happened already, it's likely. Sometimes extrapolations can be gruesome, right?" Gloom descended upon many of his students' faces. "But it serves us in preparing for possibilities. We can't control how this carnage manifests," he continued, "but we can control how we conduct ourselves through them. How? By being safe: physically, mentally, and emotionally. So take advantage of your resources. If you don't feel comfortable talking to adults or your parents, talk to your friends. Most important though, live your lives."

The bell rang. Tommy spread out his arms in welcome. "Alright, first period starts right now. Addison, do you have an answer for me?"

"Apatosaurus?"

Tommy snapped his fingers at her. "Correct but they weren't the biggest Sauropods—and they wouldn't have been been as big as those giants." Returning to the black board, he grabbed some chalk. Catching the cue, most of his students opened up their notebooks and grabbed pencils and pens.

Tommy continued discussing the Jurassic period, periodically glancing and peering out the windows. Only the breeze rustling through the trees disturbed the campus. Nevertheless, Tommy did not relax. Period after period he slugged on, giving lectures, answering questions (correctly this time), and handing out assignments. Lunch finally arriving he retreated to the teacher's lounge, inhaling the fruit and spinach salad sprinkled with mozzarella cheese he had hurriedly made that morning. _Eventually, I have to get some groceries,_ he realized. Dropping his fork in his salad bowl, he grabbed a pen and scribbled a reminder on a sticky note.

"Should be easy on a quiet day," he muttered. Immediately, he closed his eyes, cursing himself for the jinx he knew lay ahead. _As if I don't have enough distracting me today,_ he mentally growled.

Ironically, he breezed through sixth and seventh period without seeing so much as a tenga feather. When the bell rang for school dismissal Tommy remained on guard (though masking it well); certain one of Jason's forces would strike. _This is the perfect time,_ he thought. _Perfect place. Multiple casualties… and it'd be my fault._

Cars came and left. Students and staff departed. Finally at four o'clock Tommy relaxed, convinced Jason was not going to attack.

_Maybe I should see the counselor,_ he joked, scoffing at his hypocrisy. Sneering, he heeded for his jeep, passing through the nearly vacant lot. A grin poked into his checks.

Lightning struck thrice between him and his jeep and Lord Zedd materialized.

Only ten feet away from the emperor, Tommy started, skittering back a further foot. His heart pounding twice as fast, he squeezed his hands into fists, unable to bring them together to call for help or to defend. "Guess I was right," he grumbled.

The emperor nodded. "Yes," he hissed.

"You're getting cocky, Zedd," Tommy bluffed. "Last time we fought, I broke your staff."

"But do you really think that I teleported down here to battle you?"

"You're Lord Zedd," Tommy retorted. "You can do almost anything."

"Ahh, but should we fight now? Tell me, how are you feeling today?"

Tommy glared at the emperor, tensing his cheeks. "Like I'd tell you."

Zedd cocked his head to the side. "Oh, then why don't I take a look?" Immediately, he shot his supervision into Tommy's brain.

Wincing, Tommy clutched the sides of his head, cowering to his knees.

"Aww, what sweet memories you've recalled today. Such precious students."

"Stop!" Tommy wailed, dropping to his side.

Zedd abated. A tendril of ruby and white energy surged down his right arm, spilling and splashing up and down the shaft of his staff; the cold steel flushed.

Sprawled forward and gasping, Tommy opened his eyes. Gaping upward at Zedd, he stomped and pushed himself to stand.

Flicking his staff, Lord Zedd shot Tommy in the chest, knocking him onto his back. Tommy groaned, parasthesia surging through his torso and shoulders. Dazed, he lay there. Struggling and gritting his teeth, he squinted over his cheekbones at Zedd. _I should've morphed,_ he thought.

Cackling, Lord Zedd stood over him. Tossing a discharge of lighting into the sky, he vanished.

"Dr. O?!" yelled a male voice.

Gripping his chest, Tommy rolled onto his side, pain piercing his numbness there. Wincing, he glanced in the voice's direction. Connor McKnight, the new soccer coach, and former DinoThunder Red Ranger, ran to his former teacher, kneeling immediately at Tommy's side.

"I saw what happened," the nineteen year old, high school graduate said. "How can I help?"

Tommy glanced at his chest and sighed, seeing his intact clothes. Pushing himself to sit up, Tommy grimaced. "No, I'll be okay," he winced. "He only stunned me."

"You sure?"

Tommy nodded. "Yeah. It's just numb. Won't stop tingling."

"You were hit by lightning." Connor rested a hand on Tommy's shoulder blade. "I'm sorry," he added.

Tommy rubbed his chest. "Don't apologize for caring."

"I saw him! I could have—"

"You're not a ranger anymore, Connor." Fighting through the numbness in his gluteus, Tommy wiggled to a sitting posture.

Connor glanced longingly down at his bare left wrist. Tommy noticed, understanding what Connor longed for.

Connor glanced at the spot Zedd had been. "Was that really Lord Zedd?" he asked.

Tommy looked at him. "Yes." Gripping Connor's shoulder he added, "Connor, listen. Don't get involved with any of these battles."

"But—"

Still gripping the young man's shoulder, Tommy shook his finger at the young man. "No, Connor! If civilians are in trouble, you help them evacuate but don't fight in the battles. I mean it."

"Dr. O., you can't do this alone."

Tommy sighed, and then winced. "I'm not alone, Connor," he grunted, remembering that six remained on his team—a team that had once been an octet. Staggering, he picked up his briefcase and limped to his jeep. "Your gems don't have powers anymore—and besides, they're on display at the museum," he added staring at his dashboard. Wincing, he gathered his breath. Finally, he faced his Connor. "Connor… watch after yourself. Make sure Kira, Ethan, and Trent do too." he added.

"I will."

Tommy nodded, turning his engine on.

"Dr. O., what's going on?" Connor asked.

In answer, Tommy glanced at Connor, his brow furrowed. His eyes slackened. Connor shifted, opening his mouth. Shifting his jeep into gear, he drove away. At least two miles away from the school he rubbed his chest again, grimacing.


	3. Connections and Disconnections

"Jeremy Scott," Adam called out across his academy's training room late that afternoon.

Primed and disciplined, Jeremy sprang up from the multiple rows of children, teenagers, and adults sitting on the carpeted floor. Dressed in his black, ceremonial _gi_, the teenager strolled up to the table Adam, reverent in silence. Spreading his mouth into a smile, Adam, winged by his staff, picked up a one of the rubber banded, rolled up black belts. "Congratulations," Adam said, handing it to the teenager.

"Thank you," replied the youth, bowing.

His emotions rooted in sincerity, Adam stared back into the eyes of his enemy's cousin—the enemy that Rocky had joined, whose agents had burned Adam's skin. Tension tugged Adam's tongue backward, jerking his throat. Though Sean had healed the burns, faint, scattered scarring had remained. Thankfully, his robes hid them. Adam hopped the scars would fade over time. Swallowing, Adam shoved his sensations away, retaining the gentleness in his eyes—and his face; then his body. Without looking away, Adam relaxed his throat. "You earned this," Adam said, sincerity shining through his words as he stared into Jeremy's eyes. Jeremy was not Jason. _There is so much in him, though,_ Adam thought.

Taking the belt, Jeremy sauntered back to his sitting place.

"Darrol Stevens," Brandon called out.

As he had done for the past forty minutes, Adam maintained his composure focusing on the river washing through polished stones within his mind. Nevertheless, his shoulder blades' muscles itched to coil and knot. Thus, he smoothed them down, quieting the fire within them.

"Amanda Terrace," Katie called out, holding out a yellow belt.

_Second rank,_ Adam thought, gazing at the belt Katie held out. _So many of us beginning and then beginning again._ The words rippled within him.

Casually he glanced down at the black belt tied around the waist of his black, silk, long flowing ceremonial _gi_. The nine narrow golden strips sown into it marked him as a 9th degree, a level of mastery most martial artists never reached. His rank was a living testament to the life he had dedicated to the Martial Arts. Given enough time, he could become a tenth degree black belt.

Adam looked up, recalling the two hundred fifty-move kata he had executed to pass to this rank. Phantom wafts of the sweat he secreted during the testing wavered in his nose. The memory of a hand, neither large nor small but warm and familiar, pressed upon his shoulder blade. Adam silenced the shudder, straightening his spine.

Rocky's memory was here in this place. It had been his imagination. Rocky was not there now. Instead, Brandon sat beside him.

_And today I feel like a white belt,_ he reflected behind his gentle face. He glanced at the list before him. "Sarah Tenner," he called out, his voice smooth and carrying.

Adam swept his gaze over his students; the adults, teenagers, and children. Tears remained distant from his eyes though the sack of sorrow swelled beside his heart. Breathing through the pain, he focused on the present, pushing Rocky from his thoughts.

Three dozen names later, Adam and his staff rose to his feet. Their students rose in unison. Adam addressed the room. "All of you, I am proud of what you've accomplished these past few weeks, months, years. However long ago you began your training, it does not matter. You are here because you strove to learn, to grow, to advance not just your rank but yourselves. You have honored yourselves, this academy, and your instructors. Please remove your current belts and replace them with your new ones."

All the students, everyone that had attended the Advancement Testing, untied their belts and replaced them with their new belts. When finished, they started at their instructors.

"Stance!" Adam commanded. The room echoed the students' clapping their hands to their sides. "Well done." The instructors bowed. Their students bowed in response. "See you tomorrow. Dismissed."

Conversation and wondering rumbled throughout the room as several students congratulated each other.

Adam began packing up the chairs. "I'll take care of these," he mentioned to his friends and staff.

"Mr. Park?" asked a voice.

Adam turned around and then smiled. Jeremy stood feet from the instructors.

"Masters," he greeted the others, bowing at forty-five degrees. Pivoting, he bowed once more to Adam, bending at ninety degrees.

Adam bowed back in kind. "How may I help you?"

"I was wondering if you could tell us why Master DeSantos is not here."

Expecting this, Adam refused to flinch. "Unfortunately, I can't give you an answer, Jeremy," he answered in a smooth voice warmed with compassion. However, firmness underlay his tone. "It is not for me to reveal."

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you for your concern though. Have you thought anymore about being an assistant instructor?"

Jeremy nodded. "Yes. I would like that."

"We'll set up your training soon, then. Go on now and celebrate. We'll talk later in the week."

"Thank you, sir. Masters," he added, bowing to them. Pivoting, he exited the room.

Watching him leave, pride once again rekindled in Adam's heart, warming his spirit.

Parents approached the staff, shaking hands and thanking them for their help, time, and teaching. Flashing a polite and honest smile, Adam shook every hand offered to him. When asked about Rocky's absence, the staff followed Adam's example.

When all of the students and parents were gone, Adam corralled his staff into his office, half of them spilling into the hallway. All of them looked at him, unspoken concerns sketched in their faces.

"Thank you for your patience," Adam began, knowing each of them were honorable. "I didn't want to alert the students—take time from their celebration. All I can say about Rocky is that he is at a crossroads in his life and is taking a leave of absence."

"Are you two alright?" Katie asked, stepping closer to him.

Adam sucked in a deep breath. He exhaled, refusing to hiss. Releasing the tension congesting in his brow and upper cheeks, he answered, "I am giving him the space he needs to make these decisions. He _may_—" (The word stabbed between multiple ribs, scraping their edges, but Adam submerged the pain, rising above it with serenity,) "—be leaving the academy. However, until he makes up his mind, Brandon, would you mind covering his classes?"

"Of course not."

"Good. I won't be able to teach as much nowadays as my own schedule is going to be a bit unpredictable so I'm gonna need to depend on all of you."

"Just ask," Brandon said.

"We've juggled classes before," replied Susanna, another instructor.

Sighing, Adam smiled, eyeing them all in turn. Respect and admiration swelled within him, sprouting a smile across his face. His sorrow dimmed, flickering out. "Thank you. I will compensate you for this accordingly."

His staff cheered, smiles lighting their faces.

Adam bowed his head to them, chuckling himself. It surprised him.

* * *

"See you tomorrow, Adam," Katie called, stepping into her car.

"Good night, Katie," Adam called over his shoulder, locking the front door. Backing up he turned drifting past his car and past the next door Surf Spot. Stopping at the sidewalk, he paused. Looking over his shoulder, he glanced at his academy. Rocky's_ and my Academy,_ he corrected. _Park and DeSantos' Academy_.

They had spent years researching and building this place, spending not just money but sweat through laboring renovations. Childless, this had been their child—their focus for seven and a half years. He crept back, his eyes glued to circular emblem upon the side of their building.

Adam peered at the logo, recalling the opening house celebration. News reporters, sponsors, supporters, friends, and even family had attended. Even Jason, Trini, Zack, Katherine, Tanya, Kimberly, and Tommy had shown up. As the flood of memories slammed through his mind, one image repeated, shining beyond the others: Rocky, dressed in his vested, black tuxedo, his eyes twinkling at Adam after the party. Despite the publicity, Adam had laughed and chuckled during the party, wrapping his arm around Rocky.

_An hour had elapsed since the Academy's open house party. The staff members, parents of child and teenage students, adult students, and donors had long departed since then. Outside their building twilight had morphed into night._

_In the absence of others, Adam and Rocky wandered through the hallways and rooms of their newly constructed academy, silently basking in the birth of the product carved from their sweat, paperwork, and negotiations over the past few years._

_Turning, Adam looked across the training room at Rocky. Rocky was already gazing at Adam, pride and love shimmering in his face and chest. Adam was sure his toes were twitching with excitement._

"_We did it," Adam finally spoke, his shoulder length black curly hair now tied into a tight bun._

"_Yeah, we did." Rocky sauntered toward Adam, beaming a broad smile as he swam in a fog._

_Adam chortled. "You are so drunk right now." Rocky had behaved himself professionally and courteously with their guests and staff. However, no one else was supposed to stop by now, allowing them to relax more._

_Flashing his teeth, Rocky spun around, swaying from his knees. Flinging his arms, he imitated the backstroke, guffawing. Sliding to attention, he stared into Adam's eyes. Then he bounced his head up and down. Adam rolled his eyes but returned his gaze to Rocky. "When I began thinking of building my own studio, I never thought it'd be done in two years._

"_Like you said earlier."_

_Rocky swayed his head forward. "Nah nah nah," he said, gesturing the remark away. He kept approaching, his feet remarkably steady. "All publicity aside, we _did_ this! In another day the lobby outside will be full of furniture, decorations, and then students!" he whispered, giggling._

_Adam tilted his head smirking at the young man._

_Inches from Adam now, Rocky clasped his hands on Adam's shoulders._

"_You know your mouth might tear if you keep grinning like that." Adam remarked with a straight face._

_Rocky's mouth widened and his eyes twinkled. His slim belly bounced as chuckles rolled from his mouth. "I don't care!" he exclaimed, his mirth infectious. "We did it! We open tomorrow!"_

_Releasing his calm face, Adam wrapped his arms around Rocky's waist. Scoping him up with ease, he whirled in place, whooping and cheering._

"_Yeah!" Rocky shouted, punching the air in triumph. Curling over, Rocky caressed Adam's head, pressing his lips to Adam's forehead for untold seconds. Adam slowed his whirling, and just stood there, holding Rocky above him. Springing his neck back, Rocky gasped for air, resting his hands upon Adam's forearms. Adam steadily lowered him down, feeling no tension within him. They stared into each other's eyes, magic connecting them. Springing off of Adam's forearms, Rocky and exhaling, Rocky rode his breath backward suspending two feet from the ground. Floating down thirty feet away, his eyes never left Adam's._

_They stared into each other, desire firing through their eyes. Forgetting the laws of physics they leapt into the air, throwing their jackets to the floor. Catching and groping each other, they soared and twirled toward the roof, their lips locked together._

Releasing his smile, Adam opened his eyes. A tear fell from it, trailing the edge of his nose than his jawline. Three sighs barreled through his mouth. He glanced about him. An aluminum beer can lied on ground, inches from the building.

Adam pulled back his hand, curling his fingers in dragon style kung-fu. Bellowing a cry he slammed his hand out at the can, descending to a crouch. Without touching it, the can ricocheted off the building's walls, tumbling through the parking lot.

"Adam?" asked a man, his delicate voice riding on the breeze.

Adam spun around, his body rigid as surging hormones readied him for battle. Startled, he did a double take.

Hands in his denim jacket's pockets, Billy stood alone beside Tommy's black jeep.

Straightening up, Adam lowered his fists, relaxing his shoulders.

"Evening," Billy said. He nodded at the can. "Was that _chi_ or telekinesis?"

"_Chi,_" Adam replied, relaxing somewhat though. Turning away from Billy, Adam sneered at himself.

Billy shook his head, grinning a bit as a light chuckle fell from his lips. "Trust me, that wasn't the easiest lesson to learn. Sean spent years working that with me."

Adam blinked, crinkling his brow in pensive thought. "You're telekinetic," he pointed out.

"Doesn't mean it wasn't easy to master. Although when you think about it, telekinesis and _chi_ manipulation aren't that different."

"I guess so. I'm sorry. I'm not supposed to use that in anger."

"Then be glad you're with me," Billy joked.

"You're a martial artist, Billy," Adam pointed out, emphasizing another meaning also. "Doesn't matter if you're half-alien."

Understanding, Billy bowed from his waist. "I accept your apology but you didn't hurt anyone or damage anything."

"Except the can," Adam lightly joked. "Care to give me some pointers?"

Pivoting towards the can, Billy stretched out his fingers at it. Rising diagonally it glided smoothly toward his hand, stopping inches from his fingertips. Twisting his wrist, the can rotated forty-five degrees. "After a while it becomes second nature, once you know your limits." Billy oscillated back toward Adam.

"Yeah. Still having a bit of trouble with that."

"Here, accept it," Billy offered, sliding the can through the air toward Adam.

Breathing in and out, Adam reached out his hand, sending his thoughts toward it. Invisible thin tendrils of his aura licked out from his palm and fingers like tongues of flame.

But the can remained five feet away, held and hovering by Billy's control. Adam closed his eyes, seeing the can with his mind.

Opening his eyes, he gazed at it. Seeing it, he reached out with his intention and _chi_ as he would if he was using one of his arms. Brushing against the can, his aura then grasped it. In his mind he felt and saw it quiver.

"That's all it takes," Billy remarked.

_No failure today,_ Adam thought. _Failure_, he mused.

The can fell. Clanging echoed about them as it bounced and rolled upon the cement and asphalt.

"Sorry," Adam finally said, gazing after it. "Rocky's better… than I am in this," he said, his voice shaking somewhat. He glanced at the ground, blinking. Lifting his head, he peered at Billy from under a heavy brow. "Have you or Haley made any progress?"

Billy shook his head. Stepping onto the sidewalk, Billy strolled to his friend's side, his eyes open and his face slackened. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Adam sighed, glazing back at his academy. "You know I thought the two of us were going to beat that old number one rule of business. I guess not, eh?" A skinny tear surfaced from his left eye. It glistened in the street light. Adam wiped it away. "Rocky and I were always careful. Avoided PDA as much as we could—but—"

"Adam? Have you eaten lately?"

Adam shook his head. Billy laid his hand on Adam's nearest shoulder. "Come on. Isn't there a sushi place nearby?"

"Yeah, but umm… I feel like a hamburger right now."

"I've been craving one for eight and a half years."

"Burgers it is," Adam said, a chuckle falling out of his mouth.

"How about if I drive?"

"Sure." Then he paused. "Billy, how can you legally drive on Earth?"

"I earned my license before I left Earth. Just needed to update it when I returned."

Adam cracked a brief smile. "I bet the officers were a bit flummoxed."

"Surprisingly they weren't. Or at least didn't show that they were."

Adam shook with silent laughter. Grasping the passenger door, he opened it. "Where's Tommy by the way?"

Opening the jeep's driver door, Billy glanced at the sky. "He wanted to stay in tonight."

Adam regarded him.

* * *

Night dragged on toward midnight at the Oliver residence.

Standing outside, Tommy leaned his back upon the rear wall of his house, his shoulders sagging. He stared ahead toward the horizon beyond the forest partially lining his property, though really focusing on barely anything.

Above him, the full moon's luminous corona spilled throughout the sky, ring upon ring. Stars shined throughout the nightscape adding their splendor and peace to the nighttime air. Five constellations, including Orion, popped out through the starry frescoed expanse.

Tommy's thoughts buzzed within him, drowning out the rustling leaves.

"Beautiful night is it not?" asked a male voice to his left, rising over Tommy's inner white noise.

Tommy shook his head, turning toward the voice. Blinking, his eyes refocused the various blurs into their genuine shapes.

Passing soundlessly, Sean strolled toward Tommy, carrying a steaming mug.

"I figured you could use some company," Sean said. He stretched out his hand. "Tea?"

"Thanks," Tommy said, grasping the mug.

"You're welcome,"

Tommy sipped. Surprised by the blend, he squinted at the liquid, unable to determine the tea's color in the quarter light. "What is this?"

"It's an ancient blend," Sean answered. "It'll help calm your nerves."

Lifting the mug once more, Tommy paused. Lowering the mug, he bore his eyes at Sean, almost sneering. "You know, some would consider it rude how you read our minds all of the time," he accused said.

Sean smiled and chuckled, turning his gaze to the stars. "Tommy, I am not reading your mind," he admitted neutrally.

Tommy raised his eyebrows at him. "Really?" he asked, genuinely curious. Keeping his gaze on Sean, Tommy did not relax the tension around his eyes.

"However, I am reading your body," Sean continued.

Tommy sighed. "I thought I was getting better."

"You are. Just not enough to hide it from me."

"So now you're a smart ass?" Tommy retorted, narrowing his brow but not pressing together lines. Stepping from the wall, he pressed into the ground, firming his body. "Look, what are you doing here?"

"That is already evident," Sean answered simply, his words matter-of-fact and devoid of judgment.

Tommy looked away, allowing the silence between them to curdle. A moment passed.

"Enjoy your tea," Sean added.

Startled, Tommy gawped after Sean.

Inclining his head, Sean stepped from the house and strolled down the driveway.

Seconds passed.

_Even I wasn't as mysterious with my team,_ Tommy reflected. _ Nor was Trent._

Sean continued strolling, heading for Valencia Road.

Tommy called out. "Thanks for respecting my privacy."

Sean paused. Turning around he gazed at Tommy, his face neutral.

"I appreciate it," Tommy added, meeting Sean's gaze.

"Again, you are welcome," Sean said, and with a smile, rich with benevolence, he teleported away.

Tommy sipped the tea again. Soggy bark and leaves swirled in his taste buds as the aroma spun up his nose, like green tea but richer—fuller. A touch of molasses sweetened his palate. Nevertheless he was not sure he liked it. Yet it was satisfying and wholesome to him. He sipped again, pouring more into his mouth. As he swallowed his thoughts decelerated, not to the point of sluggishness, but to a steady pace. Vaguely he navigated through the labyrinth of feelings, thoughts, and memories as ease descended into his shoulders. He cracked a smile.

However, within seconds, it slumped into a frown as he stared at the moon, tracing its craters with his eyes. _Jason…_ He drew in a breath. "Go ahead and send your cronies. Send Rocky if you want!" he shouted spitefully.

No one else appeared. Neither the stars nor moon offered responded or changed.

Tommy waited. Nothing else changed. Then… just barely, a faint breeze tickled his cheek bones. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head, surrendering to the night.


	4. Paths in Life

Billy surveyed his sunken friend from across the booth in the 50s diner. Refilled glasses of water and their untouched burgers separated them.

"You sure you can eat this?" Adam asked.

Billy flashed a grin. "To be honest, I'm not sure. I've changed a lot since I last had one."

"How?"

_Like this,_ Billy supplied.

Adam shivered. "Creepy. But cool." He broke into a grin. "Anyway I could learn how to do that?"

Billy shrugged. _It's like hearing and talking,_ he explained. _One just needs the right components to do both._

"I see."

Grabbing his burger, Billy sank his teeth into it. He moaned. "It's hard to spoil one's self on a planet where everything is pure."

Adam sipped his water. _Burgers and fries are enough,_ he thought. _Imagine what my students would say if I showed up pudgy._ He smirked at himself. "They don't have mixtures on Aquitar?"

"Several, in various combinations. I meant there are minute amounts of pollution. Aquitar doesn't have many volcanic eruptions, for instance."

"Really? But how is life sustainable there? I thought continental shifting was necessary for that?"

"A more efficient mantle." Taking a bite out of his cheeseburger, Billy chewed for long time, and then swallowed.

Nibbling on a fry, Adam peered at him. "Too long since you've had one?" Mentally, he kicked himself. _That sounded just like something Rocky would say._

Billy shook his head, chewing again. "No," he said. "Dang, I miss this. My stomach probably won't though."

Adam smiled. "Let me guess: No foul language also?"

"Exactly. Everything is cerebral, even their emotions. It's… it was difficult to adjust to."

"We didn't have a problem conversing with the Aquitian Rangers."

"The Aquitian Rangers are trained diplomats. Galactic Rangers were so few at that time that the Aquitians would journey and assist other planets."

"Like Trey did with us?" Adam supplied.

"Exactly."

Adam sighed, gazing down at his meal.

"Is something else bothering you?" Billy asked.

Adam looked up. "Maybe we should bring them back."

"The idea's crossed Sean's and my mind over the years."

"If we need them can we call them? It's not like we have the Command Center or Power Chamber anymore."

"Don't worry about that. Sean and I have that taken care of. For now, they should stay at home," Billy added as a waitress walked by them. "We can handle things."

"Can you bar Rocky access from his zords?"

Billy shook his head.

Grimacing, Adam rolled his eyes. "Of course. That'd be too easy."

"In the old days we could. While we can scan the earth for alien appearances, there are limits to what Tommy's equipment can do and what we can upgrade it to."

"I guess Earth is too primitive."

"Yeah but it's still progressing. Eltar was centuries ahead of us from what Zordon and Alpha 5 told me."

"You mean millennia, don't you?"

A smile rippled through Billy's face. "You're right." Lifting his burger he dropped it again.

"Homesick?" Adam asked.

Billy nodded.

"Let's pay and go," Adam said, sliding out of the booth and grabbing his wallet.

* * *

Ten minutes later the two strolled through the Angel Grove Park. Silver full moonlight poured through the trees, spraying the path with illumination. Adam munched on his burger. Billy on the other hand strolled about with his hands in his pockets.

"Not hungry?" Adam asked, swallowing a mouthful.

"Just pensive," said the other, looking up at the moon.

"Yeah, join the club," Adam uttered.

Billy looked over at him, studying Adam's face. "You really miss him."

Adam tittered, looked away, and then looked at Billy. "Probably as much as you miss Cestria."

"And my kids."

"Oh yeah. That's right. Do you have a photo—or something?"

Billy glanced around. "Sure." Keeping his elbows to his side, Billy raised his hands, palms up. Closing his eyes he sighed. Then a bluish light, rippling as if shining through a lake, shimmered from his palms. There, in the midst of the beautiful show, his children's faces appeared. "These are Titrus and Arqua."

Adam leaned in, peering at the siblings.

"She's beautiful. And look at that guy; he's adorable." He caught himself again. That was another saying of Rocky's.

A smile swept through Billy's lips.

"You must love them a lot," Adam said.

"I do," Billy said, dissolving the projection. "I miss their eyes," he added, opening his eyes.

Adam's smile fell into a frown. "I miss Rocky's back." _Snuggling against it at night,_ he added.

Time stood still. Cupid's ghost caressed their cheeks and waists, breathing upon their necks. Goose bumps stirred along their skins.

"How did you and Rocky become a couple?" Billy asked.

"Never met any gay Aquitians?"

"Or gay humans." Billy pinned Adam with his eyes. "At least not any out of the closet."

"Yeah." Adam scratched the side of his brow. "It was crazy."

"Coming out?"

"To say the least," Adam admitted, rolling up his napkins and pocketing them. "You have an alien family. How's that weirder?"

"I never said it was. However, it isn't as though I can hop on a plane and see Cestria, Titrus, and Arqua."

"Good point." Adam paused. _We can teleport though,_ he thought. He stopped his thoughts immediately. Stopping in on Rocky could make things worse. Plus, he did not know if he could.

Billy hesitated, detecting vague discomfort from Adam. Drawing in a breath, he inflated his heart with courage. _The obstacles we trudge through,_ he thought. "What are you experiencing, Adam?" he asked.

Adam nailed his eyes to the pine tree he was studying. Seconds passed into minutes but Adam maintained his stare. Billy waited.

"He and I didn't set out to be lovers," Adam began, his voice trailing into silence. "But there are some people who—a person actually—who… redefines what love is. What it really is."

Billy nodded, keeping silent. Cestria was his light—his pear in the ocean.

"We've known each other for years, you know—even before we met you guys. Friends, Rangers, business partners—we knew the risks—"

_Wrinkles populated the once dry cleaned white suite shirt Rocky had worn then. His indigo, thinly black stripped tie dripped from his unbuttoned collar. Completing the look—almost as if on purpose— Rocky had rolled up his sleeves past his elbows, exposing his toned triceps and biceps. Staring into a book, he tapped the eraser end of his pencil on his buzz trimmed hair, his eyelids threatening to slam shut._

_Beside him Adam nudged his roommate. "Head for bed, Rocky. It's not like your absorbing any of this stuff."_

"_Can I do both?" Rocky asked breathily. Shifting his shoulders and flapping his forearms onto the desk, he faced Adam. "It'd be great, right?" He grinned childishly, a flash of his former good humor popping into his eyes for an instant._

_Adam smirked. Grabbing the top of Rocky's head, he shook it. "You're a trouble maker, you know that? Ever since Lord Zedd put you under that fun spell—"_

"_I'm goofy!" Rocky exclaimed, shrugging his shoulders and keeping them up. "I can't help it."_

"_And adorable."_

_Rocky stopped smiling. Lowering his shoulders, he refocused his eyes on Adam. For untold seconds they stared into each other's eyes. Neither were drunk; only exhausted and worn from the day._

_Rocky reached out, grasping and fingering Adam's upper arm. Adam glanced down at it, returning his attention back to Rocky's eyes, blushing. Rocky grinned, a chuckle hissing from him. _

_They leaned in. Tilting their heads in opposite angles, they brushed their lips against each other's. And kissed again, holding onto and suspending the contact._

A tear fell down Adam's cheek. Shaking his head he cleared his throat, remembering where he was. "How much of that did you see?" he asked, looking again at Billy.

"Almost everything," said the other, catching his breath. "First time I've been able to," he said. "My telepathy's never been that attuned."

"Maybe it's because you're on earth now," Adam proposed. He then sighed. Clearing his throat again, he stared at a patch of quaking aspen trees. "A week ago we wouldn't be going through this," he said. _Or,_ he pondered but instead let the thought disintegrate.

"What else?" Billy asked.

Adam closed his eyes, seething and then relaxing. Billy kept surveying him through the dim light.

"We'd," Adam began, gathering his breath again. "We'd been talking about…" Again, silence muzzled him.

"Marriage?" Billy asked.

Adam shook his head up and down. "Mm-hmm," he said. "It's illegal here but not everywhere in the U.S."

"And now that he's with Jason…?"

Adam pivoted around, facing Billy. "Do you think Rocky really loves Jason?" Adam asked. Silence breathed into the question.

Billy noted Adam's verbiage. He pondered for a few seconds. "If he isn't, he's making quite a sacrifice."

"But that's the thing. This doesn't make sense. If he's doing this for Trini it won't matter if Earth is conquered."

"Excellent point… if we were simply discussing logic."

"I just…" Interlocking his fingers, Adam wrapped them around the back of his head. "I just don't understand why he did this."

"Maybe you and Trini should hold a conference," Billy supplied.

Adam glared at Billy. "That's not funny."

"I'm sorry, Adam. That was rude of me."

Adam looked away, gazing into the sky. "It's alright," he uttered. Silence held him still again. "Look," Adam began, "Regardless of his motives… if Rocky comes back, is he going to…" His thoughts dwindled.

Billy placed a hand on Adam's shoulder. "How about if I stay with you tonight?"

"Sure. Come on." Pivoting, they ambled back to the Jeep.

Riding alongside Billy as they drove back to Park and Desanto's Academy, Adam swam through his churning thoughts. _Whom do you love, Rocky? _he asked. _If… if you come back… who do you want to be with?_

Upon arriving at Adam's place, Billy teleported the jeep back to Adam's place, choosing not to leave Adam alone. Once home, Adam sank into a chair in his living area. Clapping his hands over his face, he tugged at his skin, pulling it outward. Slapping his hands to his side, he glanced at a framed photo. He picked it up. Rocky and he were rolling off of their couch, exploding with laughter.

"Excellent photograph," Billy said, gazing at it from over Adam's shoulder.

"You're right." Adam said. He replaced the photograph. "You think there's a shot we'll get back together?"

"Do you know if you are finished?"

"Are we?"

Billy did not answer for moment. "I hope you and he are not finished. From what I've seen you two were happy together."

"Happy," Adam murmured. He smiled. "We have been."

"Celebrate that."

Adam breathed in again. "I do. Yesterday I wanted to chop off his head though. Was I being honorable or just angry?"

Billy did not answer. Adam looked at him. "Any thoughts on that?"

Billy shook his head. "My answer isn't what you need."

Adam scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I'll see you in the morning. Help yourself to anything if you get hungry." With that he departed into his bedroom, slamming the door shut.

Sucking in a fishbowl-sized amount of air Adam blasted it out, tittering on tears. Sorrow sailed through and past him. Leaning upon his door, he thumped the bottom of his fist into it. His mouth and throat relaxing, he gazed at the bed. Their bed. He swallowed the sob running up his throat.

_This,_ he thought, shaking his head and forgetting the rest of his thought. Squeezing his eyelids together he sniffled through his mouth.

_I hope,_ he thought. _I hope you're not playing a game, Rocky. If you are… and Jason finds out… _He swallowed the thoughts. _ I want you safe, Rocky. Doesn't matter why you choose evil; I want you safe._


	5. Punishment

Rocky remained.

The ceramic bowl of water at his feet remained.

The dull stench of his excrements, wafting from a nearby pile drifted about the air.

Firelight from a mounted torch above and behind him waivered and then strengthened, highlighting the minute crevices and jagged peaks edged in the dirt and stone about and above him. Seated upon the clay and stone dais, his crossed feet remained within the perimeter. Keeping his back straight, his hands draped over his knees.

Long had he stayed there, (minutes or hours maybe?) swaying his head back and forth, staring beyond the torchlight's reach, at the darkness masking the rest of the slinking cave or cavern beyond.

Twice he had tried teleporting away. However, a damping field of some kind prevented him from transforming into energy.

Turning back to the bowl, he sneered at it, itching to slap it across the room. _Cage without bars_, he amended. Devoid of cracks no other light entered the cave. Shadows occupied the walls. Rocky glared at them.

_Tengas and then tengas,_ he chanted in his thoughts, ignoring the dried grime and sweat splattered all over his body and exercise pants. Ripped, slashed, and stabbed, the remains of his black tank top hung over his shoulders in the still air, tucked in his pants. _I should sleep,_ Rocky thought again. _Keep them waiting._

He did not sleep.

Nor did he shift.

The torch had heralded their arrival.

His small breaths barely changed the air about him.

_How long must I wait?_ he thought again. His brow hardened. _I know they're nearby._

Knotted muscles in his back complained. Snatching up the bowl, Rocky gulped down the water. Immediately, a mass of six black feather-falls fell from the sky, fusing into tengas along the light's penumbra. Rolling his neck, Rocky glared at the new attack party, pursing his lips. Letting his emotions fuel him as before he rose, standing upon the ground.

The tengas cawed, flapping their wings at him.

"Come on, tengas," Rocky spoke, nodding and jerking his head to the side. "Who's first?"

The closest one inched forward, pecking at the air and cawing.

His stream of annoyance deepening into a river, Rocky merely surveyed the attack group, his fists resting by his side. Pinning his sneer onto the nearest tenga, Rocky breathed out, releasing the tension from his muscles. He could wait. His intestines growled once more and his bladder remained empty.

_I had just forgotten about that,_ Rocky thought. Class two rapids rumbled within him. _Come on, tenga,_ he mentally pestered. _It's not like Jason put me in Tartarus._

As if hearing him, the tenga flew at him. Stepping on a diagonal, Rocky dodged the attack, pelting the tenga in the back with a side kick. Hitting the ground, it slid to a stop.

The five remaining tengas threw up their arms, jeering at the lone human. They surrounded him, fifteen feet between the nearest one and Rocky. The tenga he knocked down hopped to its feet, joining the organic cage around their quarry.

Still, Rocky stood, relaxing all tension from his body; yet underneath his skin, the rapids escalated to class three. Turning his head, he surveyed the three tengas before him, listening to the footwork of those behind him.

_My turn,_ he thought. Dipping his knees slightly, he jumped into the air. Spinning 180 degrees, he slammed two side kicks into two tengas' guts simultaneously. Already cocking his right hand, Rocky smashed his fist into the side of another tenga's head. Spinning immediately, he sank his forearm into its neck. It stumbled into an adjacent tenga.

Seizing his arms from behind, two tengas swung him backwards across the cave into the wall.

Grunting, Rocky pushed himself to his feet, catching his breath. He faced the birds. A tenga leapt toward him. "What's a matter?" it asked.

Rocky peered at it. The tenga kicked Rocky back into the wall. Bouncing off it, he sank into it, sliding onto his right side, the jagged peaks scraping away more bits of flesh. Flecks of blood dripped down his back.

_Stupid_, he thought, his eyes half closed.

The various caws flocked around him. Talons poked at his ribs. He coughed, swatting poorly at the kicks. The tengas scratched his forearms instead. He buried his face behind his forearms, curling his legs to protect his torso.

Peck!

Scratch!

Ruffle.

Flecks of blood dampened the crust of grime coating his skin. Dirt sifting into the cuts stung his nerves. His energy evaporating, Rocky could do nothing.

_What if you were fighting Dulcea, Dimetria, Ninjor, or Sean?_ Jason's voice whispered into his mind from afar. _Would you give up so soon?_

Rocky opened his eyes, his vision foggy with fresh tears. Drops dripped onto the ground. _No_, Rocky thought, tightening his fists. "Get off of me, you overgrown vultures!" he growled, opening his right hand. "APE… NINJETTI POWER!"

His body flashed with light. The tengas scurried back, covering their eyes.

Extending his hand out, Rocky rose into a lunge, garbed as the red ranger. From his hand his Power Sword appeared in his hand. The tengas cawed, jerking their hands upward in front of their faces.

Rocky pointed the tip of his sword at one and then others. "So tell me," he asked, advancing two steps forward. The humanoid black birds cowered, cawing out threats and protests for Rocky to stop. "What do tenga fillets taste like?" Drawing back his sword, he raised it over his head behind his ear pointing its tip at the lead tenga. Sinking into a back stance, he withdrew his blade blaster in blade mode, holding it out perpendicular to his sword. "Want to tell me or should I find out?"

"Fillet?" squawked the lead tenga.

"I don't want to be cooked," said another. Two others shook their heads.

"Attack!" cried the leader.

Rocky breathed in and out, grounding his mind in sunlit, mountain air. Curling their claws, the tengas charged at Rocky. Calling upon the Power within him, Rocky slashed at the first two, kicked away the third in the neck. Back flipping away, he switched his blade blaster to blaster mode and fired, pelting the remaining tengas with energy blasts.

Landing he crouched, balancing both his weapons. "Care to continue?!" he asked.

A few groans permeated the air along with the smoke from the singed feathers. "No," they chorus, vanishing instantly.

Exhaling, Rocky demorphed, his weapons dematerializing. Glaring he glanced at the torch. Its flame flickered, shrinking to a quarter of its size.

"Time to sleep," Rocky grumbled, lumbering back to the dais of dirt. Sitting atop it, he looked over his shoulder, craning to see down his back. In the failing light, shadows covered and exaggerated his scrapes and cuts. "Too bad I don't have any antiseptic," he murmured. "Do you want me to rot here, Jason?"

"You're asking the wrong person!" called a growling voice from the darkness.

The torchlight blazed once more. The voice chuckled.

Alert with goose bumps, Rocky spun around.

Stepping out of the darkness, Goldar aimed the tip of his sword at Rocky. "You failed in stopping your boyfriend for me," he recounted, a growl vibrating in his throat.

"It happened," Rocky retorted, his stomach growling again.

"Foolish human, you have no idea what you're doing! Admit it!" Sneering, Rocky turned his gaze away from Goldar. "You don't have any extra evil in you, boy! What makes you think you could be the Grand Monarch's heir?"

Turning back, Rocky glowered at Goldar, insults coating his tongue.

"What? Silence? Or do you have something to say?"

The taunts poked at Rocky. Furrowing his brow further he tightened his fist, raising his heels.

"Foolish human. Swearing allegiance to Jason is not all you must do; and until you discover that you will remain in this cave!"

"I can teleport anywhere!" Rocky said, his temper simmering.

"Not in this dimension," Goldar chuckled. "I wouldn't recommend trying since you need all the energy you can save for your battles. How long do you think you can keep morphing?"

Rocky belted a hiss at Goldar.

However Goldar simply chuckled. Raising his sword horizontally in front of his chest, he slid his hand down the blade. Orange-yellow flames crackled from it, engulfed him, and he vanished.

The torch's flames dwindled to embers, inviting the darkness' return. Wrapping about them, the darkness squeezed out their light.

And Rocky saw nothing.

Nothing came to him in that darkness: neither corporeal nor mental. Time hovered away but lingered. The air turned still again, unflustered by Rocky's faint breathing.

He remained: waiting.

Instinct urged him onward yet failing to translate the reason. _There was a reason,_ he thought, ruffling his hair again. Distracted he slipped backward, smacking the back of his head on the dirt underneath him. "Ahh!" he cried, his voice echoing back at him. Shuddering, he squirmed backward, scraping his shoulders against the jagged wall. "Damn it!" he grumbled, shuffling inches away from the wall. He huddled into a ball, lying once more on his blister free side. "What do you want, Jason?" he asked. "What?" Squeezing his hand into a fist, he slammed it down.

Opening his mouth, he yelled. The sound echoed and crescendoed down the cave. Soon it dulled into silence. Nothing around him changed.

A tear squeezed out of his eye.


End file.
